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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24877063">Leaves From The Vine</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Berricuda/pseuds/Berricuda'>Berricuda</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Avatar: The Last Airbender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Agni Kai (Avatar), Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Avatar Azula (Avatar), Avatar Zuko (Avatar), Bending (Avatar), Character Death, Drabble, Emotional Hurt, Fire Nation (Avatar), Grief/Mourning, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt Zuko (Avatar), Iroh (Avatar) is a Good Uncle, Mild Language, Other, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Ozai (Avatar) is an Asshole, POV Iroh (Avatar), Sad, Tragedy, Zuko's Scar (Avatar)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:34:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,638</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24877063</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Berricuda/pseuds/Berricuda</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Iroh shifted on his heels, approaching the lone tree he had come to once a year beforehand to honor the life of his son. But, this evening was far different. It pained him that he would be doing this, for this is not how things should have happened. With another slow exhale through his nostrils, Iroh shook himself from his thoughts as he stopped at the base of the tree, which's branches danced above his head joyously. A smile curled his lips faintly as he watched leaves twirl downwards before he lowered his gaze. Finally, Iroh nestled his basket down upon the yellowing grass before he sank to his knees. He reached out shaky hands, brushing his roughened hands over the familiar rocks. </p><p>Iroh reached over to dig through the basket he had brought with himself, taking the contents out to place them out before him. He placed the incense down first before reluctantly placing the ink painted drawing he had made himself. The edges of the parchment shivered faintly with each brushing fingers of the breeze, almost giving it life as if it were breathing. Iroh chewed on his bottom lip as he felt his hands fall limply to his lap, meeting the young gaze of the painting that smiled joyously up at him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Iroh &amp; Ozai (Avatar), Iroh &amp; Zuko (Avatar)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>153</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Leaves From The Vine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been almost three full months since the dreaded Agni Kai.</p><p>Almost three full months since the incident that drove an even deeper rift.</p><p>The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, its fading rays creating a dazzling light display from behind thick fall clouds. It was a beautiful sight for sore eyes, the sun bathing the painted landscape with magnificent colors and shapes. Trees rustled softly with the breeze, creating a symphony of sweet music, peace to one's ears after grueling hours spent in the halls of the Fire Lord. Occasionally, the breeze would carry with it a fragile leaf, lifting it towards the sky to finish out its life. They spiraled to the ground slowly, some finding their way onto the shifting surface of the pond. Out here, there was no one breathing down one's neck. There was no stress of potentially angering the Fire Lord, whom held a short fuse for a temper. There were no worries about consequences nor having to meet the same fate of one particular young bender.</p><p>It was peaceful, relaxing. Something one did not see a lot of in the Fire Nation. It was a moment to cherish, to relish in.</p><p>An older bender had took this moment to head out of the kingdom to be on his own for the evening. It had taken great reluctance for him to finally do so, tying the string of his hat before he stepped past the gates. Iroh carried with him an old woven basket as he walked along a path he trekked every so often, head lowered. This was the first time he had stepped foot out alone since three months ago, when he was too upset to even face his little brother. Iroh let out a low sigh, watching the breeze carry his breath towards the slowly changing sky with a heavy, solemn gaze. </p><p>The world was beautiful out past the gates. How Iroh longed things were different inside of them, but there was not much he could do without being undeniably punished by his once adored little brother.</p><p>Iroh shifted on his heels, approaching the lone tree he had come to once a year beforehand to honor the life of his son. But, this evening was far different. It pained him that he would be doing this, for this is not how things should have happened. With another slow exhale through his nostrils, Iroh shook himself from his thoughts as he stopped at the base of the tree, which's branches danced above his head joyously. A smile curled his lips faintly as he watched leaves twirl downwards before he lowered his gaze. Finally, Iroh nestled his basket down upon the yellowing grass before he sank to his knees. He reached out shaky hands, brushing his roughened hands over the familiar rocks, lifting them to stack.</p><p>Iroh's dearest son was not the only one buried beneath the intertwining roots of this tree. Not anymore. </p><p>Iroh reached over to dig through the basket he had brought with himself, taking the contents out to place them out before him. He placed the incense down first before reluctantly placing the ink painted drawing he had made himself. The edges of the parchment shivered faintly with each brushing fingers of the breeze, almost giving it life as if it were breathing. Iroh chewed on his bottom lip as he felt his hands fall limply to his lap, meeting the young gaze of the painting that smiled joyously up at him. Those eyes were so hopeful, so bright, as they stared through him lifelessly. All he wanted to do was reach out and cup that fragile chin in his calloused palm. Iroh felt a sob rack his shoulders as he dropped his gaze, clenching his eyes as tears started to bubble helplessly.</p><p>Trying to stop himself from breaking down would be hopeless.</p><p>"Oh, nephew... I'm so sorry. If only I could have saved you from.. from your father..." Iroh whispered in a cracking voice, words carried in rolling clouds towards the darkening sky. He reached out to brush his thumb mindlessly over the cheek of the painting, feeling a halfhearted smile form on his lips as he stared dully. It felt like a nightmare he could not wake up from despite how many nights he shot up from his covers in a cold sweat, the images of the young boy's body collapsing under the cold gaze of his father burned into his mind forever.</p><p>The scream that had torn from the young prince's throat that day still rattles Iroh's thoughts, a deadly siren that haunted him in the night.</p><p>
  <em>It had happened so suddenly that night. Prince Zuko had dropped to his hands and knees before his father, begging for forgiveness, pleading that he would never let another outburst break a meeting. Ozai had sneered, spitting towards his son, spewing on about how pathetic the young prince was and that he would never be as great as a Fire Lord as he was. Iroh watched helpless, barricaded to the side, calling to Ozai to stop this madness. Iroh had felt the fear radiating from his nephew, his own heart hammering.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Yet, Ozai simply laughed, his intimidating form towering above Zuko, casting the shadow over him that was always there. His hands clenched into tight fists, flames erupting as he commanded his son to stand and to face him like a man. Prince Zuko had been hesitant, rising to his feet, refusing to meet his father's gaze as he took the best fighter's stance he could to defend himself.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But Zuko had stood no chance against his father, who merely kicked at the form of his son on the ground, demanding the guards to deal with him after Ozai stepped over him.</em>
</p><p>"...I miss you, Zuko... Your sister does as well. Things are not the same without your presence here," Iroh murmured, bringing his hand back to rest in his lap. Tears rolled down his cheeks, beading at his chin before dripping into the dry soil beneath him. Taking a moment to recollect himself, Iroh rose his hand to light the ends of the incense sticks carefully. The sweet smell of cinnamon and vanilla intertwining immediately, wafting upwards from the thin sticks. Iroh sat there, watching the rolling puffs of smoke be carried off by the breeze in swirling tendrils. </p><p>Inhaling through his nose, Iroh began singing. Not only for Zuko, but for his son. It was the traditional song he greeted Lu Ten with on his birthdays, but now, he was dedicating it to both young men laying side by side beneath him.He sang for the heart ache he felt, for the pain that Zuko must have felt in that moment. Iroh sang to let his own grief out, feeling tears begin to well at the corners of his eyes once more. Squeezing his eyes shut, Iroh let the wind carry his voice.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Leaves from the vine...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Falling so slow...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Li-Like fragile... tiny shells...."</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Iroh took a moment as his voice started to crack, choking up. He quickly dabbed at his eyes, feeling the hot tears start to puddle more at the corner of his eyes. He wanted young Zuko to be awaiting for his uncle when he returned to the castle like normal, joining his side in adoration as he pestered the older Firebender with questions.</p><p>But this time, when Iroh would finally return, there would be no one. Just the cold, lifeless stares of the Firebender guards and the darkened hallways that seemed to run forever.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Drifting in the foam...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Little Soldier Boy...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Come marching home..." </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Iroh felt the body shaking sobs start to pull at his hunched shoulders. He dropped his chin to his chest, feeling his breathing begin to hitch. How could Ozai do this to such a young boy? To his own damn son? Prince Zuko had been a blessing to that family despite Ozai's harsh criticism of his son being too weak, too fragile, too much of an embarrassment to his name. The Fire Lord had more hope in his young daughter than he did in his son, despite Zuko's pleas and constant attempts to prove he was worth his father's attention. But nothing he had done was ever enough.</p><p>Iroh was more of a father to the young prince than Ozai ever could have been.</p><p>Iroh let out a hiccup as he tried to recollect himself, his bottom lip trembling as he rose his blurry gaze to the darkening sky above him. Finally, he let the final words be carried off in a gentle hymn for the two innocent souls beneath him, the wind tugging at his hair with gentle combing fingers.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Brave soldier boy...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>C-Come... Come marching home...."</em>
</p><p> </p><p>As the last word left his lips, Iroh felt a weight on his body. He dropped his hands to the tear stained dirt, shoulders shaking as he finally let out the body racking sobs he had been holding in. His fingers clenched the grass, gripping desperately for leverage. It all came out as he let the last strand come undone, his face screwed into a pain filled frown as Iroh sobbed helplessly. The setting sun disappeared behind the mountains, leaving Iroh in the dark alone, only the faintest light from the flickering flames on the incense illuminating the soft smile of the painting.</p><p>When Iroh finally felt the last tears squeeze from the corners of his eyes, he slowly straightened, running the back of his hands across his face to clean up. He let out a sigh, focusing on the painting in front of him, muscles aching as his heart shattered. Iroh sniffled weakly, brushing himself off before he went to extinguish the flames from what little remained of the incense.</p><p>"Until next time, Prince Zuko..."</p>
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